


The Big House Bearcat

by So_Fucking_Bored



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 1950s Slang, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Daddy Kink, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Help, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light BDSM, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24384934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/So_Fucking_Bored/pseuds/So_Fucking_Bored
Summary: “Jo?” The voice shouted, and she shot up from her crouch to see who it was just as the person came closer.“Joanne? Joanne Williams? Shit I ain’t seen you in forever! It’s Harley! Harley Star-Keener?” Joanne appraised the man in front of her, her mind whirring around what he’d just said. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a decade, and while she was hesitant to identify the sharp cheekbones and jawline with the chubby faced boy her friend had once been, his brown eyes and button nose had remained the same.She was in his arms before either of them registered she moved, and sighed into the familiar and tight embrace before loud shouting made her pull back quickly.orThe one where everyone is fucking and doing illegal shit.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Peter Parker/Thor, Bruce Banner/Thor, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov/OFC, Everyone/Everyone, James "Bucky" Barnes/Harley Keener/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Tony Stark/Everyone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: Quarantine Things





	1. Introductions

~~~~~~~~~~  
Bruce and Thor  
~~~~~~~~~~

His head was on his lover’s chest, and tears were in his eyes when he realized it. 

“We can’t stay here anymore.” The words were too loud in the quiet room, though they were just a whisper. 

His lover didn’t respond, though he knew the younger man knew it too. War had been on the horizon for some time now, and they both knew Poland would be next, not to mention that the younger was Jewish. The conversation was one they’d been having ever since Hitler took to power, though none of them ever took it seriously. 

“I got a telegram from a friend in New York a couple of days ago.” These words too were quiet, though at the same time all too loud. 

“I barely speak any English my dear.” The younger said in an apologetic tone, and the elder could tell there were tears in his lover’s eyes. 

The silence was deafening, but after a minute that lasted eons, the younger sighed. 

“I can get us on a boat tomorrow.”

Neither of them moved for nearly an hour, but when they did, it was with a sense of urgency that couldn’t be verbally explained. 

~~~~

War broke out before they docked in New York, but it was only once they reached the seaport and they saw the headlines that it felt real. 

A suit-clad man waited for them, and he guided them to a bright red car with mischief in his eyes and a half smile on his face. 

“Hi, I’m Tony,” the man said in perfect Polish as they reached the car, opening the door before reaching out a hand towards the younger, “and you must be Thor. Bruce has told me all about you.”

~~~~~~~~~~  
Steve and Bucky  
~~~~~~~~~~

The war hadn’t been kind on any of the soldiers, and as the two of them walked down the docs, they couldn’t help but realize that neither had the aftermath. 

After their victory had been announced to them in Europe, the only thing on their minds was the redhead that had been sneaking into their bunks a majority of their time there. 

She’d embraced them tighter than they thought possible, and turned her back on them for the first time, leaving to look for her missing other half.  
When the two soldiers reached New York, everything and nothing was the same. 

They’d lost their shared apartment once the younger had enlisted, and the streets were still buzzing with people who had too much to do and too little time. 

The younger gripped the sheet of paper in his pocket, the Long Island address on it memorized as the duo walked briskly towards the train station. 

A hand on his shoulder startled the elder just as they began climbing the train stairs. 

His head turned fast, and his hand flew to grasp the person he thought was an assailant before his mind registered who it was. 

Tony Stark stood before him, suit impeccable as always, half smile on his lips, and mirth in his eyes. 

The soldiers let out relieved laughs when they saw him, and the three of them shared a brief embrace.

Tony pulled back from their hug first, looked at the elder soldier’s shoulder and cursed under his breath. 

“We’ll fix that Buck, Stevie. Promise.”

It was the only thing the trio said before they walked towards the bright red car.

Getting into the car, Tony made the two large men sit beside him as he held them in a tight embrace. 

He kissed each of the soldiers on their foreheads before leaning back and looking to the driver. 

“C’mon Happy, Daddy’s taking his boys home.” 

~~~~~~~~~~  
Clint and Natasha  
~~~~~~~~~~

When the redhead returned to the Soviet Union, she did so with one thing on her mind. 

She would find her love, and then they would find her American soldiers. 

The first part was easy enough, she knew Russia like the back of her hand, and she knew he wouldn’t have left her. 

Their reunion was bittersweet, he was half starved and his ribs easily countable, and she was hardened by the war and the lives she’d taken. 

What was hard was exiting the Union. Tensions between her country and her soldiers’ were high, and if it weren’t for her and her lover’s contacts, they wouldn’t have made it out. 

They’d made sure not to leave a trace behind before boarding a train to Slovakia where they would then have to board another train to Spain before getting on a boat to America. 

The journey in total took nearly half a year, and by the time they arrived at a port in New York, they were both weary and tired. 

Her English, while not terrible, was still spoken with a thick accent, and though they’d been practicing during their travels, his understanding of it was still at a beginner’s level. 

This made navigating their way around harder, since Americans were generally weary of her kind. 

She was able to figure out that they were somewhere in Brooklyn, and asked for her soldiers using the names they gave her, but the only one that recognized the names didn't know where they were. 

They slept on park benches at night, and after nearly two weeks three suit clad men approached them. 

“Natasha” the tallest man said, relief in his voice, blue eyes lined with unshed tears. 

She ran towards him before he could speak more, arms tight around his neck. 

“So you’re the girl my boys told me about? It wasn’t easy to find you.” The shorter man said in Russian, mischief in his brown eyes and a half smile on his lips. 

She nodded before pulling herself away from her soldier, going back to hold onto her lover’s arm. 

“I am Natasha, and this is Clint.”

“Well,” the man started, nodding his head towards a bright red car, “we’ve been waiting for you two, come on home. My name is Tony”

~~~~~~~~~~  
Peter  
~~~~~~~~~~

The smell had reached a level he couldn’t ignore, though he did his best as he held one hand over his aching ribs and raised his nightshirt over his nose with the other. 

“Hey cake eater!” The boy in the bunk above him shouted, and he closed his eyes in a futile attempt to pretend he was sleeping. 

“Come on little girl I know you hear me,” the taunting voice continued, and tears brimmed in his eyes at the memory of just how violent that voice could turn. The feeling of phantom fists and feet kicking at his ribs reminded him how much easier compliance was than resistance. 

He had to remind himself that there was no one to help him there, that he was more alone than ever before. 

The voice faded out after a while, as his tormenter grew bored of the game. 

Sleep nearly claimed him as the door was slammed open, and light flooded into the room. 

There were nearly twenty boys in the crammed room, only separated by bars around their bunks. 

The locks on the bars were opened by the warden that had slammed the door open, and he shouted out orders for the boys to line up in the hallway. 

He joined the line in the hallway as quickly as he was able with the blinding pain in his ribs, and was met by the stare of a suit-clad man with brown hair and eyes that were lined with mischief. The man had a half smile that seemed too out of place for somewhere with so much misery. 

“They all nonviolent ones?” The man asked, his tone dismissive and question directed at the warden even as he looked at the men. 

“Most of em are.” The warden said, fear in his eyes. 

“Take out the violent ones.” The warden nodded at the children lined up, and five or so began to move back towards their bunks before the man in the suit let out a low whistle. 

“This one’s violent?” He asked, approaching one of the smaller boys. What was visible of his skin was littered in bruises, and he held his ribs with one hand. 

The man approached the boy as the warden began to stammer something out, his bald head sweaty, and hands over his robust stomach. 

“You violent little guy?” He asked the boy. 

The boy shook his head quickly, his throat clogged with fear. 

“Then how come you went to leave?”

“I’m here cause I roughed a guy up, but I swear it was only the once an-“ the man cut off the boy’s stammering excuse. 

“We can talk about the why later, c’mon I’m gonna take you home.” The man looked at the warden as he said this, and wrapped a surprisingly gentle arm around the scared boy. 

“Say kid, what's your name?” The man asked after they left, the boy still in his night clothes and slippers, with the man’s arm wrapped around him. 

“P-peter sir”

“Well Peter,” the man said as they approached a bright red car, “welcome to the family. My name’s Tony.”

~~~~~~~~~~  
Harley  
~~~~~~~~~~

Steam drafted from the sewer grates, and the smell of garbage and feces permeated the air. 

The newsboys waved their papers, shouting out over exaggerations of the stories within. The short pale faced newsie on the corner of Broadway and W 45th ave waved around his papers, but the suit clad business men around him barely paid him any mind. The afternoon rush had just ended, and his pockets were nearly full with the profits of his day. 

A tall, suit-clad man brought his last paper, and the newsie put his hands in his pocket as he turned down towards 44th street, his eyes lingering on the occupants in the lobby of the Hotel Astor. 

The bottle of whiskey on the low lying table in the far left corner of the lobby twinkled in the afternoon light, one of the tumblers next to it sat empty, its partner in the hand of the city’s most notorious mobster. 

No one knew the man’s birth name, but his face was all over the papers, and everyone who wasn’t a tourist knew his face. 

The Gangstyer of New York. 

The meaning of his nickname, regardless of its Russian origin, was easily discerned. 

The gangstyer saw lounging in the armchair, seemingly at easy. His dark brown hair was slicked back by pomade, and bright brown eyes twinkled with mischief. The man across from him wore similar clothing, though even from outside, the newsie could tell he was shaking. 

The gangstyer laughed at the shaking man before finishing his drink and making eye contact with the newsie. 

Two sets of brown eyes met, and the younger felt a shiver run through him before he turned around and rushed down the street towards the subway. 

Nearly two hours later, he changed into his sleep clothes and slid into bed. The body beside him was warm, though he didn’t dare to get too close, and he fell asleep quickly in spite of the gnawing hunger in his stomach. 

~~~~

By the time he reached the factory the next morning, the sun had barely rose, and he was already tired. His stomach ached from the meager slice of bread he’d eaten, and the blisters on his feet throbbed. 

The line to buy papers seemed longer than ever, though he supposed it could have been worse. 

It was nearly a half an hour before he got his hundred papers for the day, though as he reached to pay for them, a gloved hand slammed down the table. 

“He won’t be needing any of those today” a smooth voice said. 

The man behind the booth nodded forcefully, sweat shining on his bald and stuttered something out. 

The Gangstyer of New York put a hand on his shoulder and nudged him away. 

“What’s your name newsie?”

Tongue thick with fear and heart racing in his chest, the newsie opened his mouth as they reached a bright red car. 

“H-harley sir.”

“Well Harley, I think I’ve got something for you.”


	2. Chapter 2

The air was just starting to warm, the cold of winter giving way to the spring when she realized what she had to do. 

In a week’s time, they’d move her to an adult’s prison in the Village that she knew she wouldn’t come back from the same. 

She’d been in the holding cell for two weeks under orders of the judge, and her plan had been dragging on slower than she’d hoped it would.

So far, none of the guards remotely trusted her, and she still hadn’t been able to find a way to make the window in the bathroom they let her shower in open. 

Lying on the metal slab they called a bed, she closed her eyes and tried her best to not let the tears fall. 

She hadn’t cried in the entire time she’d been there, regardless of the way the stares and wandering hands of the officers made her feel. 

“C’mon Williams time to shower.” The officer said, making her jump as she hadn’t noticed him approaching. 

Swinging her legs over the side of the metal slab, she walked the small distance to the entrance of the cell with dread pooling in her stomach. 

The walk to the showers was too fast and too slow all at once. He took just long enough for her to see the copious amounts of people in the station, for her to register the shouting, cursing and crying, all while making her feel like her doom was approaching faster and faster. 

“Remember bearcat, last shower before they take you over to the big house, make it a good one.” The guard said, hand on her ass like burning a hole into her skin. 

~~~~

In the long run, it was easier getting out of the station than it was getting out of the city, though she saw that coming. 

She stole a new set of clothes from a used clothes store on the way to Penn Station, there she was able to enter through a worker’s entrance and got on the first train to Long Island she could find.

The conductor was heavyset and lazy, so it was easy enough to hide within the masses of people that made up the late morning rush.

An hour and a half came before she was spotted, though the conductor didn’t recognize her face, and simply gestured at her to get off the train instead of making a scene once he realized she didn't have a ticket. 

The toy store across the street from the station she was left at was empty enough, and an old woman was at the front desk. 

Entering the store, she approached the front desk with a hopefully confining frown on her face and hunch in her shoulders. 

“Ma’am?” She said tentatively. 

The older woman’s head moved in her direction quickly, appraising the girl. 

She was on the shorter side, with dark black hair in natural ringlets that fell to her lower back, green eyes, and full pink lips. She was wearing a modest blue knee length skirt, a white button up blouse, and a button up sweater the same shade as her skirt. 

The elderly woman nodded towards her, walking leisurely in her direction. 

“Yes darling? Is everything okay?” The woman asked, looking at the girl’s hopefully pitying facade. 

“Actually ma’am, I was taking the railroad earlier and I lost my mom. I was hoping I could use your call someone to let them know where I am?” 

“Well dear,” the woman responded to the girl, voice stricken and hand on her heart, “of course, long as you keep it quick. It’s right over there, and help yourself to a cola, you’ve been through a lot.” 

She walked over to where the old woman had gestured after taking the proffered cola from the icebox. 

Typing in the number she knew by heart was harder than she had imagined, and the other end picked up the line before she was ready for it to. 

“Ello? Burgio’s Garage how can I help you?” 

“Yeah,” the girl started, quiet bravado coming to her voice slower than it would have a month ago, “I need to speak to Elliot. Tell him it's Jo.”

~~~~  
Her stay with the Burgio family was conditional on her, so long as she brought more money in than she used, she could stay. 

So far, they claimed she owed them roughly a hundred dollars, between room, board, clothing, and use of their machinery. Her chance to pay them back would come at the end of the week when the bike she restored would be raced against others from all around Long Island. 

The bike she started on the day after she arrived was coming along nicely considering her only having spent a week or so on it, and she worked on it until the sun had set and oil lamps burnt too low for her to keep on. 

The room they gave her was in the attic above the building with the garage, on a separate floor from the rest of the family’s. Most evenings, Mrs. Burgio made her a plate that one of the younger boys brought up, and on the nights she didn’t, Jo did her best not to mind. 

She’d already gained some weight in the short time there, but not enough to fit into the hand me down clothes they lent her. The denim jeans fit her too loose around the waist, and the shirt and jacket were even worse. 

That morning, before the sun had even fully risen in the sky, she watched as Elliot Burgio loaded the bike she worked on into the back of the family truck alongside two more. 

Her and the two eldest Burgio boys, Elliot, and his brother whose name she could not remember, squoze into the cab of the truck for the short drive to the plot of land in the woods that had been cleared for the race. 

It would be her only chance to test the bike on the soil before the actual race, and she could only hope for the best. 

Unloading the bikes was quicker than loading it, and they quickly set up a space beside some of the trees. 

The grass in the clearing had been torn away from their position to about five miles or from north to south, and a mile or so east to west, creating a functioning track that would be lined with borders and benches come race day. 

The three set to work in relative silence, and the noise in the clearing was near deafening between the sounds of engines and the clanging of tools. 

She was met with lingering looks that grew shorter as the time passed, though it was to be expected. Not long ago, her picture was on the front page of most newspapers in New York. Here though, surrounded by criminals and mobsters, her identity couldn’t have been safer. 

She’d gotten into an easy pattern of working when a shout from across the field broke her out of her reverie. 

“Jo?” The voice shouted, and she shot up from her crouch to see who it was just as the person came closer. 

“Joanne? Joanne Williams? Shit I ain’t seen you in forever! It’s Harley! Harley Star-Keener?” Joanne appraised the man in front of her, her mind whirring around what he’d just said. 

She hadn’t seen him in nearly a decade, and while she was hesitant to identify the sharp cheekbones and jawline with the chubby faced boy her friend had once been, his brown eyes and button nose had remained the same. 

She was in his arms before either of them registered she moved, and sighed into the familiar and tight embrace before loud shouting made her pull back quickly. 

Two large men had approached the trio, their black and white suits looking out of place next to everyone else’s work clothes. 

Both of the men had blue eyes and blond hair, but the larger of the two reached out and put his hand on the shoulder of the boy that had been with Harley. 

The other’s hand jerked Harley away from her, before the man’s large and imposing form stood between the former friends.  
The clearing was silent for a moment, all eyes on them. 

Harley tentatively reached a hand out and put his hand on the shoulder of the man between him and Joanne. 

“Hey Stevie, this is that girl I told you about, ‘member? We was in that orphanage together over in the city, I known her most of my life an’ I just wanna talk to her.” Harley’s voice was a calm, tentative tone that Joanne hadn’t heard on him since she scraped her knee down to the bone at the age of six and wouldn’t stop crying. 

The large man-Stevie she guessed, turned his head towards Harley, and the two seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes before the man nodded and stepped to the side. 

“Now Jo,” Harley started, his tone forcibly blasé, “we gotta talk ‘bout some stuff don’t we? C’mon by us, an’ bring your bike so I can get a look see.”

Harley gestured at the bike behind her, and she looked over to the Burgio brothers to see Elliot looking away, though Joanne couldn’t tell if he was uncaring, or angry, and his brother was on the other side of the clearing, having a conversation with a girl from Happauge. 

“What? So it can be like that time you almost broke your neck underneath a Chevy?” She asked after a second or two, once the tension had bled out for the most part. 

Harley laughed and moved to grab the handles of her bike to stand it up, looking at her with a small smile on his face. 

“C’mon Jo, I learned a bit since I saw ya last.” 

Joanne rolled her eyes good naturedly and put the few tools she was using back in the box. 

The group of five walked silently to where Harley and his people had been working before they’d moved over to her. 

“So Jo, this here’s Peter,” Harley said, gesturing to the only other young boy, “that’s Thor,” the larger of the two suit wearing men, “and Steve, my older brothers.” 

The three men nodded when their respective names were called, and Peter gave a small wave. 

“Joanne, I met Harley in a orphanage down in Harlem a while back” the men nodded at her words, and while Harley put what was supposed to be a comforting hand on her back as they stopped, she could tell that both Steve and Thor were milling over something in their heads. 

“Now,” she said as Harley kicked up the stand on her bike, “what do you really want Harles? Not to be rude or nothin’, but c’mon.” 

“You know me too well Jo,” Harley said, laughter tinting his words, “I wanna know what you’re doin’ with Elliot an ‘em, but I’m honest ‘bout the help and all, swear it.” 

Joanne raised an eyebrow, giving him a considerate look. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a decade, and now may be the chance to find out just what had happened all those years ago. 

“Alright, but what’s in it for me?”

“A story for a story Jo, you know how it is, and I’ll give ya half the cut if me or Peter wins cause ‘a your work, and I’ll bring you a brand new set of leathers to wear for the big show.” 

Joanne shot Peter a look, he was working alone on his bike, Thor having returned to leaning against a tree. 

“You playin’ games with other peoples money ‘gain Harles?” Jo asked, hands in her pockets and tone teasing yet serious. Years ago, even as a child, Harley had known how to play games with people, and most of his problems back then stemmed from money. 

“Nah, I’m all done with that Jo promise.” 

“Alright, but you ain’t getting a cut if I win, not unless I notice something good.” 

“Hard bargain there Jojo,” Harley said, though they both knew it was just bravado at this point,-he was well enough off that he didn’t need the money, “but alright, tools are over there.” 

Joanne’s first move was to grab his bike, and rev the engine. 

“So, you gonna ask or no?” She asked, examining the machine’s inner workings. Harley had sat on the ground next to where she knelt, observing what she was doing carefully. 

“Alright, let's get down to it, I ‘pose, hmm, so many questions Jo, how ‘bout we go backwards? Let’s start with Elliot Burgio. Ten years ago, you never woulda stepped foot in the same room as him, let alone a car with him and little him.” 

Joanne sighed, wishing she hadn’t spoken in the first place, she’d forgotten how straight to the point Harley could be when he wanted something. 

“Couple ‘a years ago, baby Burgio got into some shit down in Brooklyn, an’ I got ‘im outta it. The family owed me, so they’re letting me stay with ‘em.”

“Okay, not everything I wanted, but that’ll do for now, your turn.” 

“Pass me the smaller wrench first an’ tell me how in the name of the Lord you got kicked outta a orphanage run by nuns.”


	3. Chapter 3

The bikes had come along nicely, and though she didn’t want to drive it in front of the competition, she was confident that the three bikes she’d worked on would pull through. 

Since the Burgio brothers wanted to leave as early as possible, by five-thirty, Joanne was being ushered into the truck. 

They unloaded the truck as quickly as possible once they arrived over an hour later, their truck one of many as all of the racers began to file in to make their last minute corrections. 

Joanne glanced at Elliot and his brother before walking towards the truck Harley and his brothers had come in on, an easy smile on her face as she rolled her bike in their direction. 

Thor and Steve were wearing the same black suit with white button down shirts, and Harley and Peter were wearing light colored Levi’s with well fit leather jackets.   
Joanne looked over the four men, and felt a thrill go down her spine that she hadn’t felt in over a month. The men were attractive, and how she was only beginning to realize that, she didn’t know. 

“Your roommate okay with all this doll?” Harley asked, his tone sarcastic as he looked over to where Elliot and his brother were whispering harshly to each other. 

Joanne rolled her eyes good naturedly and walked on in the direction Thor and Peter had gone off in, her and Harley side by side and Steve a step or two behind them. 

“With any hope I’ll be outta there soon, get my money, and a train to Jersey-what!” She said at Steve’s snort from behind her. 

The man only muttered “Jersey” under his breath, genuine disdain in his voice. 

“Hey Jo,” Harley started once they reached the clearing. Benches had been set up on either side lengthwise, roughly a half a mile apart, leading down only halfway towards the end of the five mile long track. 

Joanne made an inquisitive noise up at Harley when the elder had stopped speaking, though quickly looked back down once they made eye contact. 

“We uh, wanted to ask if you’d come home with us, join our little family.” Peter finished for him, having approached them from where he’d been standing a couple of feet away with Thor. 

Joanne’s mouth opened and shut a few times, reminding her of a gaping fish out of water, though she couldn’t answer. 

“You don’t gotta answer now, just think ‘bout it alright?” Harley added, some of his composure back, though cheeks still as red as a tomato. 

Joanne nodded, unsure of what to say, even as Harley passed her a bag and muttered something about the clothes he promised under his breath. 

She nodded again, like a bobble head before turning quickly and heading towards the woods to change. 

Joanne had wanted to say yes to him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. 

She changed quickly behind one of the larger trees, equally scared of the animals and whatever person could walk towards her without her noticing. 

Harley had packed her a white men’s undershirt, leather jacket, leather pants that were only slightly too big on her, and a pair of boots that fit her near perfectly. 

She tightened the bandages around her chest slightly, then tucked the shirt into the leather pants and zipped up the jacket to ward off the slight winds. 

The walk back to where she’d left the guys was quicker than the walk there was, and she was greeted by the sight of Harley on his knees in front of Peter’s bike, tightening a final bolt. 

The blush returned to Joanne’s cheeks when she saw the four men, the memory of both her earlier thoughts and their earlier conversation in her mind. 

Steve noticed her first, and she hoped she didn’t imagine the way his ocean colored eyes dragged up and down her form before meeting her eyes, a heat she hadn’t noticed before present in them. 

She felt that thrill she’d had that morning return in tenfold, and while she wanted to look at him the way he’d looked at her, something inside her didn’t let her break eye contact with him. 

A sharp whistle a second later broke both her and Steve out of whatever that had been, and while Steve’s gaze barely shifted, her head turned towards Harley. 

“You look good enough ta eat Jo,” Harley said, and a retort nearly came from her lips before Elliot barked out her name harshly from a ways away. 

“Well, thank you gentlemen for the clothes, but looks like I’m being summoned.” Joanne said, doing her best to hide the slight disappointment in her voice. 

She didn’t want to go down that road again, especially after the last time she trusted a man. 

“Wait Jo,” Harley called as she was about to turn, making her stop abruptly. Harley jogged the few feet between them and towards her, pulling something from the inside of his pocket. 

“Ya know how to use one ‘a these?” He asked quietly, the silver gun in his hand catching the light. 

“Yeah,” she said, not able to hide the humor in her voice, “Draco Ivanov taught me.” 

Harley near busted out laughing at that, and both Steve and Thor had small smiles on their faces, their eyes alight with laughter. Peter’s face was caught somewhere between shock and humor. 

“Alright Jo, just don’t go killing me with my own gun too okay? It don’t look too good on a person after the first time.” 

Harley laughed as he handed her the gun and she slid it into the back of her waistband, pulling the white shirt she wore over it. 

~~~~

By seven o’clock, the benches were filled with a larger crowd than most of the racers expected. 

Harley had pulled her away from the Burgios again to introduce her to the rest of his family just as racers were getting ready to line up. 

He introduced her to an average height man named Bruce with fair skin, brown hair and eyes first, he was the eldest brother. Next in age order was Thor, though they’d already been introduced so in place of a handshake, they just nodded cordially at each other. 

After Thor was Bucky, a tall man with brown hair and blue eyes the color of the sky on a clear day that said a story she couldn’t decipher. 

Steve was next, though unlike Thor who nodded, and Bucky and Bruce who shook her hand, he smiled at her in a way that reminded her of the intense way he’d looked at her earlier. 

The youngest of Peter and Harley’s older siblings were Natasha and Clint, and while she was more than attracted to the others she’d been introduced to, something about Natasha’s green eyes drew her in. They looked like a promise and a threat all at once, and Joanne couldn’t get enough of it. The woman had walked right up to her and embraced her, greeting her in a whisper that felt too intimate for the setting. 

Clint wasn’t much better, though the way he shook her hand felt like a different sort of intensity than Natasha, closer to that of Bucky but still not quite so. He wore thick, black glasses she’d never seen before, though the odd frames only added to the threatening intensity behind his eyes. 

Tony was the last one she was introduced to, and she recognized his face from the papers whose front page he made nearly every week. 

The Gangyster of New York took her right hand in his left, his golden rings glinting in the evening sun, and kissed the back of her hand with a gentleness that seemed undeserved. 

“Tony, and you’re Joanne Williams,” he said, brown eyes sparkling with mischief and a half smile on his face. 

She nodded, hoping that the blush on her face didn’t burn as hot as it felt, and urged her voice to work. 

“I assume my boys told you about my offer?” He asked before she could speak, and she nodded again. 

“Yes-yes sir, Peter and Harley told me ‘bout it.” She said, voice sounding smaller than it ever had before. 

“Good, I hope to have your answer by the end of the night.” He pressed another kiss to the back of her hand before he released it gently. 

Joanne stood there for another second, before the Burgio brothers shouted her name again and Tony nodded his head in their direction. 

She had a feeling that the family she was invited into was less than conventional. 

~~~~

She was situated to the left of the younger Burgio brother, and didn’t know the man on the other side of her. 

The announcer started shouting the numbers through the bullhorn, but he was barely audible over the roar of the dozens of motorcycle engines. 

When the final number was yelled, Joanne went off as fast as she could, darting between the others easily. 

Before she realized it, the end of the five miles was approaching, and the hardest part came too fast. 

At the end of the strip of land they were using, there was a concrete barrier, and the racers had to be able to turn sharply enough to make it without colliding with each other, but easily enough that they wouldn’t get too close to the ground and fall off. 

She slowed down fast enough to make it, but barely missed colliding with the younger Burgio brother who was still heading towards the barrier. 

She came in a second that time, Peter unsurprisingly taking first place, and Harley third. 

Peter had shown the greatest ability with riding the bikes, but had little to no clue how to make them, which was where Joanne and Harley came in. 

The second round started immediately after, and was over almost as fast. Only, this time as she approached the barrier, a line of men with guns stood just past it, and the shooting started before she could shout a warning to Harley who was beside her. 

She turned around quickly as people started dropping like flies behind her, some having lost control of their bike in a panic, and others with bullet wounds. 

The gunfire didn’t stop there though, as racers around her pulled out guns in response.   
She noticed though, that most of the shooters had a black bandana tied to some part of their bike just as she reached with her right hand towards her waistband. 

Joanne shot at the men and few women with bandanas on their bikes when she could, though for the most part kept as low as possible as she sped away as fast as she dared. 

Her bike hadn’t gone this fast before, and she didn’t know if the engine could handle it. 

The shouting got louder and louder as Joanne drove, fear driving her to keep close to her bike even as the wind burned at her face and her hands began to ache. 

She made it past the tree line at the same time as a good number of the other bikers did, and she cursed colorfully under her breath when she saw black bandanas on the bikes on either side of her. 

She shot near blindly towards her right, barely lucky enough to hit the tire on the man’s bike before she had to swerve to the side to avoid a tree. 

The man was thrown from his bike dramatically, and she heard him shout in pain as she aimed for what she only guessed was the main road. 

The tree line thickened for a few heart stopping minutes, and the bike got harder to control even as she slowed down to be careful. 

Looking to her left for a brief second, she felt relief begin to wash over her as she noticed she’d lost the man pursuing her. 

The trees thinned out after another minute or so, and she felt the bike bump roughly under her as dirt, grass, and twigs turned into road. 

Unsure of what direction she was heading, she sped up and turned right. The road seemed endless, and Joanne could only hope she’d made the right decision. 

Men began to pour out from the surrounding woods as she drove, and she could only shoot at them as she kept driving, hoping that something would make them move since she couldn’t turn with the speed she was going. 

Joanne wasn’t the best shot, though she was able to get most of the men away either from their own fight or flight response, or from the miraculous chance she’d hit them with a bullet. 

It didn’t last long though, and as she passed the line the men had originally held, she felt a blinding pain in her side before she lost control of her bike and fell. 

Blood oozed out of the bullet wound, and she was lost in a haze of pain as someone grabbed her by the hair and half dragged her, half carried her somewhere she couldn’t see. 

The man stopped, and forced her to her knees in front of a tall, imposing man in a suit. 

“Shit,” she slurred when she took in the man in front of her. The person behind her still held her hair in a tight grip, forcing her to look at none other than Dimitri Ivanov. 

“You, little girl,” he said, approaching her slowly, a gun held lazily in one hand, and blood splattered all over his designer suit. 

“You killed my brother, and then tore into his body with a knife. Do you know what that means? Hmm?” He said after he crouched to put the nozzle of the gun under her chin. 

“Means he deserved it, fucki-“ Joanne rasped, blood flowing from her mouth before she was cut off by Dimitri’s hand slapping her hard across the face. 

“I’m gonna get you next.” She rasped out again after a minute, her voice shaky as she held eye contact with the mob leader. 

“No kitten,” he said, thin Russian accent making itself known, “you won’t lay a hand on me, because-“ he cut himself off as she managed to grab the gun she’d shoved back into her waistband at the last minute, aimed it towards him, and shot, unsure if she even had any bullets left until his cry of pain reached her ears. 

The last thing she remembered was the bang of another gunshot, and Harley’s shouting. 

~~~~

It felt like hours had passed when she felt arms around her, and by then everything had become so distant, the pain a thing of the past, something she could ignore. 

She rubbed her face towards something near her, the smell reminded her of Harley, and she must’ve said so since it rumbled out something akin to a laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah Jojo, ‘s Harley,” she heard while she was placed atop what she guessed was a wooden table. 

There was more shouting around her, though she could barely hear it.

She had felt hands on her abdomen, examining the bloody skin she distantly remembered should have hurt. 

Joanne stared into the ornate chandelier above her head, the light was brighter than the sun. She closed her eyes, barely even noticing the shouting and cursing around her.


	4. Chapter 4

Joanne awoke slowly, first feeling the soft mattress and sheets under her, then the pleasant warmth around her before she moved. 

Her entire body was in a haze of pain, and she couldn’t tell where one ache started from where another began. 

She opened her eyes as she shifted experimentally, feeling a majority of her pain somewhere in her left side. 

From her spot propped up on what felt like dozens of pillows, she could see there were at least two people on each side of her in the bed, each pressed close together. There were another few people laying atop each other in what looked like some sort of seating area. 

The room they were in was huge, at least thrice the size of the room she’d had at the Burgios’. 

The large bed her and the other people were in was across from the equally large floor to ceiling window that was covered by red and gold curtains. No light showed through the curtains, so she couldn’t be sure what times it was. 

She shifted again, trying to sit up further and better see the rest of the room, though only made it a couple inches up before she sunk back into the pillows with a groan. 

Her memories of what had happened were jumbled, and she only vaguely remembered getting shot, as well as shooting Dimitri. 

The person closest to her opened their eyes and sat up in a fluid motion, red hair in what looked to be a tangled mess. 

“Go back to sleep,” the elder woman murmured, sliding closer to Joanne to run slender fingers soothingly over her hair. 

“Where am I?” Joanne asked, voice low but raspy from disuse.

Natasha hummed comfortingly at her, close enough for their sides to nearly brush. 

“You’re at our home doll, we brought you home” 

Tears brimmed in Joanne’s eyes at the thought of a home, and she let the soothing strokes of Natasha’s hand on her lull her back to a dreamless sleep. 

~~~~

When Joanne woke again, the curtains were still tightly shut, but the room was near empty. 

Natasha was still to her side, though was now sitting with a breakfast tray in her lap, and the morning papers in her hand. She was wearing what looked like a large men’s shirt in place of a nightgown, and her legs were bare. 

Looking down, Joanne shifted to try and get out from under the thick quilt she was tucked into. 

Natasha’s head turned towards Joanne, and watched the smaller woman reach to pull off the quilt before putting both her newspaper and tray on the bedside table and uncovering the girl herself. 

Goosebumps rose on Joanne’s legs when the cooler air hit them. 

She was dressed similarly to Natasha, only she was wearing a black button down shirt instead of a white one.

Joanne shifted again, but Natasha pushed her down with a gentle hand on her hip. 

“Calm down dolly, Bruce will look at you before you wander.” Natasha said, her gentle voice and Russian accent enough to convince Joanne to relax against the bed again. 

“Boys,” Natasha called over her shoulder, voice still low as if she thought Joanne would dart away at any second. She wasn’t wrong. 

Harley and Peter walked over to the large bed almost sullenly, like they’d been reprimanded for doing it earlier. 

“Hey Jo,” Peter said, his voice soft like he too was worried she’d run off. 

“Hey Petey, hey Harls.” The rasp in her voice was more intelligible than her words, and before she realized he was there, Clint was holding a glass half full of water with a plastic straw sticking up. 

She drank greedily from the glass, right hand reaching up to take it from Clint. 

“Go get Bruce for me before you get up on the bed,” Natasha ordered softly, and both Harley and Peter reluctantly turned towards the door to the left of the large bed. 

“How-how long have I been asleep?” She asked, her voice nowhere near as harsh as it had been minutes before. 

Natasha hummed noncommittally as Clint put the empty glass on the bedside table nearest to him. 

“Around three days, you’re in the guestroom in our home. Dimitri is dead.” Natasha said, her voice soft. 

A weight lifted off of Joanne’s shoulders at that, and she sunk into the pillows slightly. 

A relieved huff of air left her nose, and she felt Clint’s chest rumble as he let out a silent chuckle at that. 

Natasha and Clint curled around her, though were careful not to touch her where she was injured, which was the majority of her left side.

The three sat in a comfortable silence for another minute or so before the door opened, letting in what seemed to be the rest of the household’s main occupants. 

The low murmur of conversation buzzed pleasantly through the room, and Bruce walked over to the side of the bed closest to the door, shooting Natasha an amused look when she reluctantly got out of the bed to give him space. 

Natasha sat atop Steve’s lap, who occupied an armchair on the far side of the room, in the seating area. The blond rolled his eyes, though he brought his arms to rest around her waist. 

Most of them were conversing amongst themselves, though Tony’s eyes remained on her the entire time. 

He sat alone in the only other armchair, already seemingly dressed for the day. He wore black slacks, a white button down, a bright red tie, and a set of black suspenders. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, exposing his forearms. 

He was the only one dressed, even Bruce still in his sleep clothes. 

“Hey Joanne,” he started, his voice just as quietly confident as Natasha and Clint’s had been when they spoke to her before, “how’s it going? Your pain okay?” 

Joanne nodded, hissing as he fingers gently nudged at her side. 

“Yeah, ain’t too bad.”

Bruce shot her a look full of sarcastic disbelief and she heard Clint’s snort of ill concealed laughter from beside her. 

“Mind if I open this up?” He gestured toward the shirt she wore as he spoke.

“Can I uh-“ she cut herself off as she gestured at the discarded quilt, conscious of just how naked she was under the large shirt. 

Bruce smiled at her, and nodded somewhere over her shoulder. 

Just as she shifted to grab at the discarded quilt, Clint reached over and settled the quilt on her stomach just above her hips, his hands surprisingly gentle for the rough calluses that were on it. 

His hands moved to unbutton the shirt next, starting from the bottom and stopping just under her breasts, exposing the thick white bandages that encompassed a majority of her torso. 

She stared, cheeks surely burning a bright red, but wasn’t able to say anything. 

She expected to feel violated, angry even at his actions, but it felt soothing almost for Clint to do that. 

Bruce shifted on her opposite side, kneeling over her on the bed and began to cut at the bandages with a small pair of scissors he’d taken out of his bag. 

He was soft and gentle as he worked, though thorough nonetheless. 

She began to shift in discomfort as he pressed around the swollen area around her wound, and felt a hand on her uninjured side. 

She kept her eyes on the ceiling as Bruce worked, though couldn’t stop herself from releasing a soft curse under her breath when he pressed on a particularly sore spot. 

Clint’s hand squoze her side in a move that was supposed to be comforting from atop the quilt, though it only further confused Joanne. 

Why? She couldn’t remember if anyone had ever attempted to comfort her in such a way before, let alone strangers. 

The question bounced about in her head, providing her with a small distraction from everything. 

When Bruce was done, she could tell that while he wasn’t pleased, he wasn’t angry either, worry emanating from him instead. 

He bandaged her up again quickly, speaking as he worked. 

“Off your feet as much as you can the next couple weeks, take it slow after, but you’ll be fine soon enough. I’ll take another look next week and see if the stitches can come out then, alright?” His voice was soft, and that was another thing. It seemed as if they thought she was made of glass and would break at any second. 

He held out his hand to her, three small pills in it, and she took them in hers, downing them with the water Clint offered her. 

After, it seemed like a ripple went around the room. 

Those that had been sitting in the seating area all stood one by one, and Clint buttoned her shirt as gently as he’d unbuttoned it earlier. 

They all slinked out of the room, and Harley caught her eyes as he left, closing the door softly behind him. 

Tony was the only one left, and as soon as the door clicked shut, rose from his seat and walked on silent feet towards the bed. 

Joanne shifted slightly, fingers fiddling with the sheet under her. 

He sat on the bed just as silently as he’d rose from his armchair, and turned to face her after a moment. 

His eyes had a dark mischief in them, but the rest of his face was serious. 

“So, as you can probably tell, you’re in my home.” He started, and she nodded unnecessarily, suddenly more uncomfortable than she’d been before. 

Tony laughed, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was the joke in the situation. 

“Now, do you remember that offer we made?” He asked. 

She nodded, and mumbled a yes, looking at the quilt on her lap. The entire thing made her feel like a naive child, she had no clue how to step, what move to make next. It wasn’t a new experience, but it was one she definitely didn’t like. 

“Well it still stands, if you want, you can go soon as the Doc says you can be on your feet, wanna stay? We’ll get you out this guest room soon as I hear the yes. But,” he paused, and she made the mistake of looking up and catching his eye again. 

Her heart stuttered to a stop again in her chest. 

Sure, she hated the confusion of the situation, hated how new it was to her, but her whole life she’d been between one place in the next, worse than the gypsies in Europe. 

“What I wanna know,” he asked again, slow enough that the intention behind his words was unmistakable, and she knew what he’d ask next, “is how’d you get into all this mess? A seventeen year old girl from Harlem kill a Russian mob boss? Unheard of.” 

He paused again, and Joanne wished that he’d just spit out the question, all while wishing she wouldn’t have to answer it. 

“Who are ya doll? I don’t let just anyone inta my family, even if my youngest like ‘em. Who is the Big House Bearcat?” 

Joanne took a breath, then another, finally breaking eye contact with the man only to look at the curtain across from her. 

“When I was four, someone dropped me off at St. Anne’s. Couldn’t speak a lick of English. Harley taught me some English, an’ we were friends til he left. The Burgios used to live a couple ‘a blocks away from the school we went to.” It had been a while since she’d reminisced about her childhood, and she found herself longing to go back to it. Things were so much simpler.

“I met the Ivanovs when I was round six, Harley had made friends with one of the cousins in school. We uh, wasn’t exactly livin’ close to each other, so I ain’t really know them too well. They stopped by with their Pa every now an’ then, Draco taught me how to shoot when I was ‘round fifteen, sixteen.” She paused at that, let out a humorless laugh. 

“He said he didn’t need to be around a dame that couldn’t defend herself. No one even uses that word anymore.” 

Tony was watching her, observing the way she shifted uncomfortably, and she willed herself not to cover her face with her hands the way she wanted to. 

“One day, I’m out in Brooklyn, and Draco an’ Dimitri decided our friendship should be somethin’ more, an’ they didn’t really ask if I thought the same. Dimitri left after an’, Draco fell asleep, an’ I saw his gun on the floor. Saw a knife not too long later, and I don’t remember much else. Cops found me a few weeks later, and the stupid judge gave me that name. I ain’t even been in the big house before.” 

By the time she stopped talking, there were tears rolling down her eyes. It was the first time she’d told anyone the story, and an invisible weight lifted from her chest when she was done. 

“After that,” she started when Tony didn’t say anything, “judge told ‘em keep me in the police station cause he couldn’t send a minor to real prison, an’ he ain’t wanna waste state money on sending me upstate just to move me after my birthday. Found my way out, got on a train, an’ ended up with the Burgios.” 

The silence this time after she paused was easier, and she rubbed at her tears with her sleeve. 

She realized with a start, that it was the first time she’d cried about it since it happened. The tears really started then, and she gave up and buried her face in her hands. 

Joanne didn't sob though, her tears ran down her face silently after years of learning how to cry quietly. 

Distantly, she heard the bed creak before arms wrapped around her.

Tony made a gentle sound in the back of his throat, and she hated that she liked it, hated that he treated her like glass that was seconds away from shattering. She hated that she liked the comfort he offered. 

Joanne hated that the first ones that had shown her comfort probably had more blood on their hands than there was water in the Pacific. 

Long minutes passed before he moved to pull her hands away from her face. 

Her green eyes were red and blotchy, and her hair was a tangled mess of curls around her head. 

He wiped away her tears with a tissue he’d grabbed without her seeing, and held her face in his large hands. His touch was surer than the others had been, though still gentle. 

“Stay” the word was quiet, and she would have missed it had she not been listening. His brown eyes were still full of mischief, though something deeper had appeared. 

Joanne nodded slightly, scared that if she moved to speak, the tears would start all over again. 

A smile spread over Tony’s features and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“You’ll be our baby girl Annie, the littlest of the family.”

Something warm and foreign flowed through her, but the only thought that went through her mind as they sat there, his lips still pressed against her, was that no one had ever called her Annie before. 

He moved sometime later, his left arm sliding underneath her legs and behind her knees, then without warning, swung towards the side, pulling her into his lap, before planting his feet off the ground and standing. 

She let out a shout, arms scream bling to get purchase around his neck.   
“Holy fuck Tony” 

Tony only laughed at her exclamation, and walked them over to the door. 

Joanne laughed as he looked between her and the door, only then realizing he couldn’t open the door while holding her. 

“Hey-“ he started, fake offense clear in his voice. 

“Uhh, okay so,” he started once she’d stopped laughing, but it only made her catch his eye and throw her head back in laughter again. Her side ached in undeniable protest though, so she silently willed herself to calm.

She opened and closed her mouth after a minute, then looked between Tony and the door, only to start laughing again. 

Tony walked back over to the bed and sat her on the edge as she laughed. 

“Not to be rude, but I always thought you were a bit more,” she started when she stopped laughing, but stopped talking as Tony scooped her up again, having propped the door open with something. 

“Anyways, this is take two, you little brat.” 

This time, he was able to step out the door with her in his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder, a smile still on each of their faces.

He turned down a long hallway sporadically lined with doors, and towards a velvet lined staircase. 

“Ya know Mr. Stark, I can walk” 

“Well Ms. Annie, the Doc said you can’t walk,” he said as they reached the top of the stairs and walked into a large room, “ain’t ya’ Brucie?” 

Tony sat in the middle of a plush sofa towards the middle of the room, and pulled her into his lap. 

The room looked like the family rooms she’d seen in some television shows. The sofas were all a deep red, and they were arranged around the fireplace that took up a majority of a wall in the large room. The one her and Tony occupied was the longest of the three there, and she guessed at least five men Thor’s size could sit next to each other there. 

It was sandwiched between two smaller sofas, with two armchairs on either side of those. 

Harley and Peter pressed up against either side of her and Tony, and from where her right cheek was pressed into Tony’s chest, she saw Thor and Natasha’s eyes trained on her as the latter whispered into the former’s ear.

She looked away quickly, but couldn’t ignore the heat in their eyes. Bruce, whose legs were swung over Thor’s, smiled knowingly at Natasha, before reaching to scratch at Harley’s head on his shoulder. Harley snuggled further towards Bruce, though didn’t move his back from where it rested against Tony’s side. 

Clint, Bucky, Peter, and Steve were in a tangle of limbs on hers and Tony’s other side, and Peter’s cheek was pressed against her back. 

“So, family rules, to remind some,” Tony started, his voice light and happy, though he paused as he looked towards Harley who just chuckled, “and to teach the littlest. First, we got the general rules, respect your elders, don’t be rude, listen to the rest of the rules, and always be there for meal times. Then, we have the more specific rules. None of the little ones cuss,” Tony looked pointedly at Harley and Joanne at that, and though not everyone was looking at him, she could tell everyone was paying attention to Tony.

“No one sleeps alone, everyone shares a room and a bed every night. If your roommates are in another room, you gotta find another room too. Too many nightmares for all that.” He paused again, trying to recall the rules. 

The others had fallen silent, and one of Tony’s hands had begun scratching her head in a soothing motion. 

“There are doors connecting y'all kids’ rooms, don’t have locks, but even if they get closed, nothing blocks those doors, an’ no locking doors at all. No strangers, everyone in a bed by midnight if we’re home, don’t have to be yours, no being drunk in public-looks bad, listen to the Doc, he’s the oldest, and the Doc ‘round here. Always ask questions, cause to assume makes a ass outta you an’ me. No lies either got it? No touchin’ yourself without a yes from anyone older than ya either, cause it takes the fun outta it. An’ cut the Mr. Stark, you’re my baby and I’m your daddy.” Joanne blinked slowly at that, willing her mind to catch up with what Tony was saying. 

Because, what. 

“Last but not least Annie, we’re your family, but Clint an’ Natasha? You don’t leave without one of ‘em, and if you do, they know it. You’re the baby of the family, and we’re gonna protect you.”


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Clint carried her to a large plush, canopy bed, with soft blue curtains. It was covered in mountains of blue pillows, and the red comforter was by far the softest thing she’d ever touched. 

The bed was against the wall to the right of the door they’d walked in through, with a bay window directly across from the door. The seat in the window was decorated with plush cushions the same shades of red and blue that were on the bed. An oak wood door was to the right of the headboard, and led into a similarly styled room. 

Three tall dressers, the largest armoire she’d ever seen, a vanity with a stool lined the wall on the left side of the door, and two couches occupied the open space in the middle of the room. Thick, fuzzy blankets were on the floor in front of the two couches, with more cushions on them. 

More dressers lined the other wall, and two tables bracketed the third door in the room. 

Things littered every surface possible, from to open bottles of cologne, to what she could only guess were jewelry boxes in various sizes, she even spotted a few framed pictures. A couple of shirts were thrown around the room, though it just made it look more lived in. 

Clint laid her down in the center of the plush bed, the comforter pulled back to reveal a matching bed sheet. 

Once Clint had set her down, Harley and Peter squoze their way around him to sit on either side of her. 

The others either piled into the bed, or sat in the bay window. 

Clint and Natasha sat, reclining against the floorboard of the bed. 

It was strange, to be a part of their family, to be a part of a family she didn’t even know. 

Conversation flowed though, and everyone had a smile on their faces. Bruce kept looking up at them from his spot in the window seat, Tony a solid wall of muscle against his back.

After a while, Joanne grew sleepy, her head resting on Peter’s shoulder, and her eyes falling shut. 

She wiggled in discomfort though, as the pressure in her bladder became harder to ignore. 

“Wait, lemme get up, I need the bathroom” she said quietly to Harley. 

Harley rolled his eyes, then made a show of telling Bucky to get up from his spot on the edge of the bed. 

“What-no, I can go myself.” She’d turned to get up, but Bucky had already reached to put one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, pulling her off of the bed and lifting her in one move. 

“One ‘a the most important rules Annie, listen to the doc.”

She rolled her eyes in response, though didn’t respond. 

Bucky took them to the bathroom across the hall, and like Tony didn’t realize he wouldn’t be able to open the door with her in his arms. 

Bucky’s ice blue eyes widened, and he looked between her and the door twice, and Joanne’s head fell back as she bursted into uncontrollable laughter. 

~~~~

The warm bath was filled with bubbles, and she took the proffered washcloth and started scrubbing at her arms, legs, and front quickly. 

“Easy there Annie, ya’ got time-gimme that.” Tony unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves as he spoke, voice a low murmur. He’d insisted on bathing her as one of the conditions when she’d complained enough about wanting a bath. Four days had passed since she’d woken up in their house, and she’d settled for washing her face at the sink, and using a washcloth for the rest. She needed a bath, and easily agreed to Tony supervising her. 

“I can still do stuff Tony, I’m not totally fucked up.” She handed him the washcloth despite her genuine protests, though rolled her green eyes. 

Tony took the washcloth and started to wash her shoulders gently, before beginning to move down her back. 

“Ya’ know Joanne,” he started, voice still low but annoyance just under the surface, “its ‘round time you start followin’ the rules. I don’t want none of this cursing no more, an’ I’m tired of you callin’ me Tony.” 

They were both silent for a while, but Tony didn’t stop his gentle motions. 

She’d pulled her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. They never failed to make her feel so vulnerable, so small, and for whatever reason, she couldn’t bring herself to hate it the way she wanted to. 

“I-I’m sorry,”. Her voice was near silent, though she knew Tony heard it by the way he dropped the washcloth into the water with a soft plunk. 

“Sorry what Annie?” He said, bringing his left hand to grasp her chin and lift her head so she was forced to look him in the eye. His other hand grabbed her hair. 

She was trapped, and she liked it. 

There was a challenge in his eyes, and she wanted to push, see just how far she could nudge him before he snapped. 

He smiled at her, and it wasn’t the free, caring one she’d seen before. This smile was twisted, and evil. It promised her something dark while threatening her all at once. 

Joanne smiled back at him, and took her hand from where it was holding her leg, and pulled him down by the hair. 

She pressed her lips to his softly, and tried to deepen the kiss when he pulled her back by her hair, and her hand fell back into the water. 

His grasp tugged harshly, and she cried out sharply in pain. 

“I don’t like brats doll.” He said, his grip on her hair tightening as he spoke. 

“Now, who’re you saying sorry to?” His voice was sweeter than honey, but his eyes showed his annoyance. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry Daddy.” 

Tony smiled at her, and with her face in his grasp, held her as he bent down and kissed her. 

The rest of her bath was uneventful, until he toweled her off, somehow making it the most intimate thing she’d ever felt. 

He paused every now and then, pressing kisses down her throat and continuing down. 

He stopped when he reached the swell of her breasts, and her hands came up to hold his shoulders as her breathing quickened. 

His tongue darted out to lick a nipple, and sucked the pink but into his mouth. 

A startled shout tore itself from her throat when he bit her softly, and her hands moved from his shoulders to his hair. 

He lavished her nipple with his tongue before he pulled away. 

Joanne let out a whimper louder than she intended it to be, but didn’t dare to pull on his hair harder than she already was. 

“Don’t cry baby, Daddy’s gonna give you what you want.” He chuckled, then moved his attentions onto her other nipple. 

“Daddy, please, please-“ she cut herself off with a shout as he stopped. 

“Not yet baby girl, ya’ gotta wait, once Daddy decides you’re ready, I’ll give ya’ everythin’ an’ more.” He said, pulling her hands gently from his hair and wrapping his arms around her. 

Her hands gripped at the front of his shirt instead and she whimpered, tears in her eyes. 

Sure, she’d fooled around before, but nothing like that, and now that she had a taste, she wanted more. 

“C’mon doll, don’t pout at me like that, an’ save those tears for somethin’ better cause this?” He chuckled, and shook his head. 

He pulled away to slide his arms around her, then lifted her into his arms. 

“What-the towel!” She shouted, though it fell upon deaf ears. 

Tony laughed as he walked through the door she only now remembered he hadn’t closed in the first place. 

He carried her over to Clint and Natasha’s room, which looked near exactly like the one she shared with Harley and Peter, only the bed occupied the wall next to the hallway door, with the bay window across from it, two dressers, an armoire, and a vanity lining the wall to the left, and floor to ceiling mirrors no the wall to the right. 

Clint, Natasha, and Bruce were already in the room, and they all gave her flushed form apprising looks. 

Bruce gave her an amused look when Tony laid her on the bed, and got an eye roll in return. 

“Don’t pout Annie,” he chastised, and the amusement in his voice was evident. 

“I’m not pouting.” She moved her arms as she spoke, bringing one to cover her breasts, and tried to put the other over her mound, but was stopped as Bruce made a tsk sound. 

“Come on Annie you know the rules, now lemme fix your bandages and stop fussin’.” 

A sound of disbelief left Joanne’s throat, but she stopped moving her hand and it fell to her side limply. 

Bruce bandaged her up after that, and she found her eyes drifting to Tony, who wore a smug look on his face. 

Bruce finished working, and leant down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

Joanne tilted her head, wordlessly asking for more. Bruce chuckled and obliged her, pressing his lips to hers and deepening the kiss near instantly. 

He planted his palms on either side of her head, found what he wanted, and took. The kiss was merciless, and she did her best to copy his actions and arched into the kiss. 

She brought her hands to grasp at his hair and arched into the kiss, her hips jerking at thin air in search of friction. 

A hand on her side forced her hips back onto the mattress, and her eyes shot open, head jerking away from Bruce to look at Natasha pleadingly. 

The elder woman only raised an eyebrow at her, and Joanne whined again. 

“You are getting greedy kitten.” Natasha said, her voice like a thick velvet.

Joanne shook her head vehemently, but Natasha’s expression didn’t change, and Bruce laughed before he straightened up and stood from the bed. 

Tony left the room after, giving Bruce, Clint, and Natasha each a deep kiss, though when he got to Joanne, only brushed the hair from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

That night, she slept between Clint and Natasha, in one of Natasha’s unnecessarily lacy nightgowns, and every time her hands drifted below her waist, one of them would shoot her a stern look, then mutter something about the rules. 

~~~~

“What Annie? What’s wrong baby girl?” Peter whispered into her skin, his mouth against her pulse point and hand flat on her stomach. Joanne was in their room for the night, and she realized that they’d probably tease her more than the others had the night before. 

She opened her mouth to respond, though cut herself off with a gasp when Harley sucked her nipple into his mouth. 

His ministrations reminded her of Tony’s from the night before. 

Harley played her body like an instrument, knowing exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it. 

Peter on the other hand, had an incessant kind of gentleness. His hand on her stomach stopped her from moving, and Harley had ruched her borrowed nightgown up high enough that it was rolled up on her chest. 

Harley’s mouth on her chest never stopped moving. First, it was on her nipple, lavishing it with attention, then it moved, running over her chest, leaving behind a trail of spit and bruises. 

Both of her hands were tangled in their hair, holding the two boys close to her. 

“Fuck, guys-just” she gasped. 

Both of the boys pulled away from her suddenly, and dislodged the grip she had in their hair. 

They looked down at her in a condescendingly sympathetic way. 

“Annie, you’re not allowed to curse honey.” Peter said, with amusement shining in his eyes. 

And, like that it was over. Peter and Harley had ignored their own arousal, choosing instead to lay down on either side of Joanne with it pressed against her legs. 

She moved to pull her nightgown down, though they were still under the covers. 

“Don’t, I want ‘em out.” Harley said, and put a possessive hand on her breast. 

~~~~

They’d eaten breakfast together in the room with the large couches Tony had called a family room, and everyone had been left to their own devices. 

Joanne however, was still on strict instructions to keep off of her feet, and so was currently curled in the bay window of her room, reading a random book she’d found about law. 

It helped to sate the boredom, but her main goal was for it to distract her from the throbbing between her legs that had been near constant for the past couple of days. 

Joanne could barely understand the words on the page in front of her, but it was the first one she’d grabbed when they let her pick from a small pile. 

Someone crouched down in front of her, and she jumped; she hadn’t even noticed them approaching. 

Looking up, she met Bucky’s amused eyes. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’ doll, a guy can’t just look at his little sister?” 

Joanne’s eyes narrowed at him. If there was anything she’d learned was that everyone in her new family did something for a reason. 

Bucky chuckled though, and rose from his crouch only to sit next to her in the window seat. 

“Hey, c’mon don’t gimme that look.” 

Joanne looked back up at him and rolled her eyes good naturedly, but put down her book and leant against his side. 

“The others got ya’ frustrated huh,” Joanne nodded as he spoke, and he wrapped his heavy, metal arm around her. 

“It’s okay baby, you’re gonna figure out how ta’ be good real soon, and you’ll get what you want then. Just gotta ask nicely” Joanne straightened up at that, though his arm around her kept her where she was. 

“B-but I wasn’t-“ Bucky cut her off, though he kept his gentle tone. 

“Look doll, you’re already brattin’ and I ain’t even touch ya’.” 

She let out a petulant hmmph sound at that. 

“Not a brat Buck,” she mumbled under her breath. 

Bucky’s hands moved to her hips, and he managed to sit her on his lap in one motion, her legs on either side of his, and her chest against his. 

He leant down and pressed his lips against hers, forgoing all pretense of gentleness, and his tongue shot into her mouth when she gasped into the kiss. 

He kept a hand on her back, and put his other on her neck, using his grip to control the kiss further. 

“That what we gotta do?” He said once he pulled away, voice still breathless but not nearly as much as hers would have been. 

“Anyone coulda told ya’ you could kiss that brat outta her Buck.” 

She turned, trying to see where the voice was coming from, but Bucky kept his grip on the back of her neck tight, and pulled her close so she was only able to press her forehead into his chest. 

“Well ‘scuse me Stevie, thought I’d try to talk to the baby first.” 

Joanne realized that she really needed to pay better attention to her surroundings as Steve sat in the space Bucky had emptied when he pulled her into his lap. 

“I’m not a baby, now lemme up Bucky, I was readin’.” She tried to squirm as she spoke, but only ended up rubbing herself on Bucky’s growing erection under her. That was better. 

She’d been pent up nearly the entire time since kissed Tony in the bathroom, and she hoped Bucky would do something. 

She pressed herself against his hardness, and hoped against all logic that he’d do something. 

A sharp pinch on the skin where her ass met her thigh made her stop moving, and the shout she let out was more akin to a squeak than a shout. 

Bucky’s grip on her neck moved to grasp the hair at the base of her skull, and pulled back gently enough he didn’t rip out any hair, though firm enough she had no choice but to look at him and Steve. 

“The adults are talkin’ Annie,” Steve said, leaning down close enough to her that their noses brushed, “an’ even if you were in the conversation, you are the baby.” 

A hot rush of something ran down her back and into her core. The words that left his mouth weren’t supposed to be dirty, but they were so condescending, so humiliating. 

Steve put his hand on her throat, and his hand was so large that his fingers nearly touched. 

He didn’t squeeze, or pull, or anything, just kept their faces pressed close, and his hand on her throat. 

His soft, pink lips were so close, and she longed to press them against hers, but between Bucky’s hand in her hair, and his on her throat, even she knew it wouldn’t be wise to try and move. 

The seconds that passed felt like hours, before he released her abruptly and turned to Bucky, whose pupils were blown with desire, and his erection throbbed under her. 

“Well Buck, I think I found another way to get her to listen.” 

Joanne whimpered in shame, and she pressed her face back into Bucky’s shirt, unable to formulate a response. 

Steve chuckled, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could tell Bucky was smiling as he ran his metal hand over her back, his flesh one still tangled in her hair. 

She fell asleep not long after, Steve and Bucky’s conversation flowing quietly over her head. 

~~~~

A few days later, Tony had walked into Clint and Natasha’s room where the entire family was sitting and jovially announced that later that day, they would have a family dinner. 

While Tony had stated when she first woke up, that mealtimes were to be attended punctually, this was the first meal she had there that wasn’t eaten in one of the upstairs rooms. 

Natasha quickly took her to the room the elder shared with Clint, and pulled off the nightgown she was borrowing. A minute or two passed before she gave her a bra. 

It was uncomfortable where it was fastened around her upper ribs, and the black lace made her breasts protrude from her chest. 

Natasha had just wrapped her arms around Joanne, hands on the younger’s breast, and gazed into their reflection in the large mirrors. 

“It looks amazing on you darling, I swear.” She whispered, ears soft against Joanne’s ear. 

Joanne swallowed, suddenly nervous and too aware of her nakedness. 

She’d never worn a bra before, they were all too expensive and it was easier to just wrap her upper chest with medical bandages usually used for sprained joints. 

When she told Natasha that though, the elder woman had sucked her teeth and muttered something in Russian too fast for Joanne to understand. 

Afterwards, Natasha had given her a matching pair of underwear, and the lace hugged her ass and hips tight enough she knew they couldn’t have come from Natasha’s closet. 

She was smaller than the other woman, and an inch or two shorter. The slight difference was enough that a majority of the elder’s clothes were marginally large, though not overly so. 

From the way the matching set of underwear fit her though, she couldn’t tell. 

A red dress with white polka dots, thin straps, and a bow on the front was one of the last things Natasha took out for Joanne to wear. 

A pair of knee high socks and slightly too big shoes were the last to put on, but by the time she had Natasha ushered her away from in front of the mirror and to sit at the vanity. 

The way the redhead styled her hair was the same way she’d styled it for the motorcycle race. A red headband in her hair, only this time it didn’t pull the entirety of her hair back, but instead left small sections to brush the sides of her face. 

It was poetic, she guessed, but she was too focused on how different she felt. 

The motorcycle race was a lifetime ago. 

Natasha left her there, with orders to stay in place as she got dressed quickly herself. 

The dress she donned was the opposite of hers, white with red polka dots, and when Clint walked in, he put on a suit with a white shirt and red tie.   
The others went into Clint and Natasha’s room with them, a short while later, in various combinations of red and white. 

Thor let out a low chuckle when he saw Joanne, still sitting in front of the vanity. 

“That is the dress you wore, is it not?” He asked Natasha, but came to put his hands on Natasha’s shoulders. 

Natasha nodded, a small, secretive smile on her face, and Joanne felt something warm settle in her heart. 

Bruce crouched in front of her after he helped fasten Steve’s tie. 

“I’ll let you walk there if you’re careful and go slow, okay?” He asked, 

A smile bloomed on her face. She descended the stairs slowly, one hand on the banister and the other gripping Clint’s arm. 

Tony had greeted them when they reached the bottom of the stairs, and pressed a kiss to both hers and Clint’s cheeks.

Natasha came up on her other side, and they all turned and approached the table. 

Tony and Bruce occupied the head of the table on each side. Bucky sat to the right of Tony, and Clint to his left. To the right of Bucky, was Harley, with Steve on his right, and Peter to his. 

Next to Peter, was Bruce on the other head of the table. To Bruce’s right was Thor, then Natasha to his right. 

Joanne sat between Clint and Natasha, the former on her right, and latter on her left. Harley was across from her, and he smiled softly at her. 

The conversation flowed long into the night, even after dinner had been finished. 

Joanne’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and it was all in all, one of the best nights she’d ever had. 

She felt at home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically smut with a little bit of fluff before it sorry that I'm not sorry

“Bruce, are ya’ serious? You’re takin’ out the stitches today?” Joannne asked, excitement clear in her voice. 

“Yeah Annie, but in a couple of minutes, I’m gonna put some cream to numb it, but it's probably gonna hurt like a bitch when I take them out anyways.” Bruce was calm as he spoke, though she could tell he was happy from the shine in his eyes. 

He ruffled through his bag, then pulled out a small foil packet that he ripped open and smeared its contents onto her side, over and around the stitches. 

Tony rubbed his hand over her hair gently when she looked up at him, and smiled brightly down at her. 

“The others will be mad they missed it,” Clint commented from where he stood leaning against the mirror wall in his and Natasha’s room. Harley, and Peter, and consequently Thor and Steve had gone into the city for something, and when Joanne had asked about it, they just muttered something about business. 

They’d been gone since morning, and only woke Joanne up to say their goodbyes. To her knowledge, it was the first time that any of them had left in the time since she’d gotten there, but none of the others seemed to worry over it, so she did her best not to either. 

Bruce just hummed as he poked at the spot where he’d applied the cream. It had gone cold, and numb for the most part. 

“Do you feel anything Annie?” Bruce asked, and he was already looking in his bag again. 

Joanne shook her head, just excited to get the stitches out. 

Clint held her hand from where he’d moved to sit at her side, and Bruce looked up from where he’d been rummaging in his bag. 

“Gimme a kiss doll.” Tony murmured, and she looked up. 

He grabbed the side of her face, and leant down. 

Their lips met gently, before she pulled back and jerked at the feeling of a sharp pain in her side. 

“Oh shi-“ she shouted, but cut herself off once she realized what she was about to say. 

Clint held her hand tightly, even as she jerked at the pain. 

Bruce looked up from where he was taking out the stitches, an amused sort of sympathy in his eyes. 

“Just one more Annie.” 

She nodded, and braced for the pain. 

“Hey,” Clint said, and Tony let his hand fall from her face so she could look towards him, “how about when this is done, we all get ice cream.”

Joanne’s eyebrows scrunched inwards as she considered the offer. 

“I never had it.” 

Another sharp pain came from her side, but this time she only clenched her teeth. 

“Alright Annie, I’m gonna put some antibiotics on here, then bandages to be safe. Then,” Bruce paused, and smiled, “we go get ice cream.” 

There were smiles on everyone’s faces, and Joanne’s eyes shined bright with happiness. 

“Wait, think I’m allergic to one of ‘em.” Joanne said, as Bruce unwrapped another foil packet. 

“Which one?” 

Joanne’s smile fell from her face, as she thought it over. She didn’t remember what it was, only that it was an antibiotic, and that it had made her throat swell. She also remembered that it had ended up being a waste of money since they’d had to call the doctor back right after he had left. 

She shrugged, and looked down, it wasn’t a pleasant memory, and she tried to dispel it as quickly as she could. 

“I think it uh, started with a p?” 

“Are you talking about penicillin?” Bruce exclaimed, shock evident in his voice. 

She jumped, not expecting him to be loud, and looked up to see Bucky staring at her in shock, his already pale complication having faded to that of a ghost. 

“Maybe? I was really little.” 

Bruce’s jaw fell in his shock, and the others were looking between him, her, and Bucky in amusement. 

“How are you not dead?” Bucky asked. He’d stood up straight form where he was leaning against the wall, next to where Clint had been before he’d moved to sit on the bed with her. 

“I live off caffeine and spite Bucky, I can’t just go followin’ expectations and drop dead.” 

Tony’s eyes shot to her as she spoke, and his eyes widened in shock before he laughed. 

Bruce was still staring, and Bucky had choked on air. 

“What? It’s true.” 

~~~~

The others had returned by the time both Bruce and Tony trusted she wouldn’t fall at the drop of a hat, and they piled into two cars. 

It was a quick ride to the ice cream shop, and she stood between Natasha and Clint, staring at the long menu. 

“What about that?” She asked Natasha, pointing to the picture that was there. 

“A banana split?”

Joanne nodded shyly, and Natasha beamed at her, then told Tony their orders. 

Tony gestured for her to come towards him, then put his hands on her shoulder. 

“This here Andrew, is my littlest.” Tony said, and Andrew beamed at her. He was on the shorter side, and had a round belly and a short beard. 

His Italian accent was thick when he greeted her, and she waved back shyly at him. 

The encounter was short, and Tony led them to a spot along the wall where the waitstaff had put two tables together. 

They sat differently than they had at dinner, with her between Harley and Bucky. 

“Hmm,” Bucky started once they had begun to eat, his tone teasing, “that doesn’t look like caffeine or spite to me Annie.” 

“No, but my dreams of drinkin’ coffee while watchin’ kids die gave me enough fuel for a couple hours.” 

Bucky choked again, and Harley gave her an inquisitive look while Joanne spooned another bite of the banana split into her mouth, then plucked her cherry off and put it in Harley’s hand. 

“Hey, what if I wanted the cherry?” Clint asked from across the table. 

“She signed a contract.” Harley piped up, pulling the stem from the cherry out of her mouth. 

“A contract?” Peter asked. 

“Made me sign a contract when I was like six cause I said I ain’t like cherries.” 

Harley nodded proudly, and Bucky laughed loudly from next to her. 

She ate the dessert in front of her as quickly as she could while still savoring the taste of it, but soon enough her head started to hurt. 

She knocked her knee against Harley’s and leant in to whisper in his ear when he turned to her. 

“Why’s my head hurt so bad?” 

Harley smiled sadly at her, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. 

“It’s ‘cause you’re eatin’ it too fast.” 

Joanne pouted, but slowed down as her headache abated slightly. 

“Hey Stevie,” Bucky said, loud enough that Steve heard him from the other end of the table, “this one’s allergic to penicillin.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock and he stared at her. 

“Holy shit, how’d ya’ not die?”

“I survive off caffeine and spite.”

Steve sputtered around the piece of half chewed brownie in his mouth. 

“What?” Thor asked incredulously, and by then everyone had stopped talking.

“Ya’ really still tellin’ people that Jo?” Harley asked. 

“Now we gotta know the story.”

“Well Daddy-“

“Harls I hate that story.”  
“Well, ya’ shouldn’t ‘a started it, so as I was sayin’. She was maybe five, and she almost got run over by this cabbie, but ain’t drop the coffee she was holdin’ or nothin’. Hell, the cabbie was more spooked, an’ she turned to me an’ said ‘I survive off ‘a caffeine and spite’ and now ‘s all she says.”

Tony blinked at them, for the second time that day in a stunned silence, and the others laughed loudly. 

“Why did you almost get run over?” Thor asked, and Joanne’s cheeks hurt from smiling. 

“The cabbie wanted me dead.”

“The cabbie did not want you dead Joanne, you wasn’t payin’ attention.” 

“Harley this is why no one ever has you tell the stories.”

“She’s not wrong Harls” Peter piped up, his ice cream already finished. 

Harley mock glared at him, then sighed dramatically and leaned into Bruce who was on his side. 

“They’re so mean to me Brucie.” He sighed dramatically. 

Bruce gave Harley an uninterested look before pressing a wet, dramatic kiss to his forehead and shoving him off gently. 

“He deserves every bit ‘a it.” Joanne whispered loudly to Bucky as she leaned into his side. 

“That cabbie wanted me dead”

“So dramatic Annie” Natasha said, and mirth shined in her eyes. 

“He tried to kill me Nat.” 

Natasha only rolled her eyes at Joanne, prompting a smile from the younger girl. 

“Hey Annie, you have any embarrassing stories ‘bout Harley?” Peter asked, and Joanne perked up after looking at Harley, who had gone pale. 

“The time he got in a argument with the priest? When he had a fight with someone twice his size ‘cause he’s dumb? When he ran outta the church half na-“ Joanne was cut off by Harley who’d put his hand over her mouth. Embarrassment tinted his cheeks pink. 

Joanne held his eye, and licked his hand. Harley shouted in surprise, and wiped his hand off on his pants.

Peter and Joanne’s laughter calmed to chuckles when Tony shot them a look in gentle reprimand. 

“See Annie, I should tell ‘em bout when you got in your first fight.”

“Harley no, that story makes the both ‘a us wanna drink.”

Harley shrugged in silent agreement, and Bruce looked at the two of them like they were crazy. 

“Ah yes, because elementary school is so very brutal.” Tony said, and the others nodded seriously at him, though she couldn’t tell if they were doing it mockingly or not. 

“Look doll,” Bucky leant down to whisper softly in her ear, “you’re bein’ so good an’ you’re not even tryin’.”

A smile grew on Joanne’s face, and when she looked up, there was a near identical one on Bucky’s. 

Nearly another hour passed before they started leaving, but this time as they piled into the cars, Tony slid in the backseat, and pulled Joanne onto his lap. 

“You were so good Annie,” he said, then started peppering her face with kisses. 

Joanne squirmed at the tickling sensation, but his hands on her waist stopped her from getting anywhere. 

“C’mon Annie, stop squirmin’ Daddy’s tryin’ ta’ kiss his baby, show ‘er what happens when you’re good.”

Joanne stopped squirming as much as she could, but couldn’t stop laughing as he started to press the tickling kisses to her neck. 

“Tickles Daddy.”

Tony sighed and pressed a long kiss onto her lips instead. Joanne sighed into the achingly gentle kiss, her hands coming up to hold Tony’s shoulders. 

He started to kiss her neck again, this time sucking and nibbling at the skin. 

“Tastes like makeup baby, gotta wash it off when we get home.”  
Joanne nodded frantically in agreement, and made eye contact with Thor who was sitting next to them with a hand palming his groin. 

“Thor’ll wash it off for ya’ ‘kay baby?” Tony asked as he unbuttoned her pants and slipped a hand into her underwear. 

His thumb rubbed gently but firmly on her clit, and her whines and gasps escalated instantly. 

He slid his pointer and middle fingers to her in one motion, and she rocked against him gently. 

A mantra of Daddy, and please fell from her lips, and Tony caught her lips in a demanding kiss as the car stopped and she fell undone on his fingers. 

She buried her head in Tony’s neck, as her orgasm crashed over her in waves, and fell against him limply, Tony’s hardness under her all she could focus on. 

“Hey princess, don’t go all soft on me now, look at Thor, you got big brother all hot and bothered.” Tony crooned in her ear, and she turned her head to rest her cheek on his shoulder, her eyes on Thor. 

His hand was palming his erection harshly, and his eyes were lidded heavily. 

She whined high in her throat when Tony’s fingers slid out of her, and whined again when she saw Tony slide those same fingers between Thor’s parted lips. 

“Go with Thor baby, he’s gonna clean you up, an’ you’re gonna take care of ‘im.” 

Tony pulled his fingers from Thor’s mouth with an audible pop, and grabbed Joanne’s hips. He slid her from his lap to Thor’s who grabbed her cheeks in his hands, and kissed her. 

It was deep and demanding, nothing like she imagined, and even better than she did. 

She rocked down into him, and ignored the uncomfortable chafe of her damp jeans to feel his hardness underneath her. 

Thor pressed down on her hips, and thrusted up against her, moaning into her mouth. 

A hand tangled in her hair pulled her away from Thor’s mouth harshly, and she looked up to see Natasha smiling at them sarcastically. 

“C’mon Thor, Daddy needs the car.” 

Thor bared his teeth at Natasha in annoyance, but got out the car quickly without letting Joanne down. He held her under her ass and kissed her again as he walked up the stairs from the garage. 

She wrapped her legs around him as tightly as she could, and before she realized it, he set her down in the bathroom on unsteady feet. 

“On your knees Joanne,” Thor growled as Joanne grasped at his arms in search of stability. 

Thor reached around her to slap her ass harshly, and the sound resonated in Joanne’s ears before she felt the sting. 

She gasped out Thor’s name, only for him to grab her shoulders and push her gracelessly down onto her knees. 

Joanne yet out a yelp of both shock and pain, only for Thor to chuckle darkly. 

“You may have liked that Joanne, but you will not like the spanking you get if you don’t listen.”

Joanne hurried to unfasten his pants at the threat, but didn’t register it automatically. 

Spanking, he’d smacked her, then threatened to give her an actual spanking. 

Joanne nearly cursed aloud again at that, remembering not to just on time. 

Thor’s pants fell to pool at his knees, and Joanne had to lean up on her knees as high as she could in order to kiss at where his cock tented in his undershorts. 

Thor let out another growl of impatience, and fisted his hand in her hair, then roughly took himself out of his undershorts. 

It was thicker than her wrist, hot, red, and pulsating. 

Joanne gulped audibly, and Thor’s hand in her hair guided her towards it slowly. 

She parted her lips, and kissed the head of it as slowly as he would let her, before Thor guided her down the length until she gagged. 

They stood there for a few seconds, both breathing raggedly, and her hands clutching Thor’s thighs. 

“Tap me with three fingers if you need to stop.”

Annie gave a hum of agreement around him, and did her best to hollow her cheeks and suck the thick length in her mouth. 

Sure, she’d done this before, but like everything with her new family, this was as different as it could be. 

But before, she had always felt empowered. Now, as Thor held her hair and used her, she felt more exposed than she ever had. 

His thrusting turned painful after not long, and she nearly tapped his hip where she grasped him tightly when he thrusted deeply, and released himself inside of her mouth. 

Joanne swallowed when Thor gave her a look that told her any thoughts of spitting were funny to him. 

She panted against his thigh, and rested her head against the sweaty skin for a few minutes. 

Thor seemed to be doing the same, but gently dislodged her grip from his hips and bent to pull up his pants. 

“Good Joanne, you did exactly what I wanted.” 

Thor’s words made her smile shakily, and he stood here on unsteady feet once his pants were fastened. He kept an arm around her tightly, and led her to the sink where a washcloth was waiting. 

Thor washed her face and neck gently, making Joanne grumble slightly. 

“Do not fuss Joanne,” he said, voice low and soothing. Joanne sighed, her throat raw and sore. 

He set down the washcloth after he gently took the makeup off of her neck, and then proceeded to pull off their clothes. 

Joanne shivered once she was naked, and looked pointedly at Thor’s undershorts. 

“I did not ruin my under clothes Joanne.”

Joanne’s face flushed, and she looked to where her own clothes were, a notable wet spot in both her jeans and underwear. 

Thor’s chest rumbled with near unrestrained laughter, and he led her back into the main room with a hand on her back. 

He walked towards the bed, and pulled back the covers before gently nudging Joanne closer to the large bed. 

Before she knew it, she was snuggled against Thor’s chest in his and Bruce’s room under a mountain of blankets higher than she thought possible. 

He was whispering praises into her ear as he stroked her hair, and her throat continued to throb in pain. 

Joanne hummed as he continued to whisper to her, but it broke in her raw throat, and sounded more like a whimper. 

Thor chuckled and smiled down at her, but pulled her in tighter towards his chest. 

Bruce and Thor’s room was set up much like the one she shared with Peter and Harley, but with the bed against the wall across from the door that connected to the next room, and armoires and dressers on that wall. 

Bruce walked in after some time, and Thor sat them both up to lean against the pillows so that they were facing the door. 

“Open up Annie, I wanna see something.” He said, and Joanne knew from the look in his eye and the small smile on Thor’s face that she was walking into a trap, but Bruce tapped her chin expectantly in a way she knew meant he wasn’t to be tested. 

Slowly, she opened her mouth, and Bruce grabbed her chin to force it open wider. 

He looked at her throat briefly, dropped his hand from her chin, and declared brightly, “You have a case of well fucked throat, I’m afraid it will happen again soon.”

Joanne glared at him, but couldn’t help smiling softly when she heard both him and Thor laughing. 

“He does it to everyone kochanie.” 

Joanne just huffed again, but let the two men hold her on either side as Bruce settled into the bed. 

“Didn’t know you were Polish.” Joanne said, her voice as raw as her throat. 

“We came here in ‘39, our boat was in the ocean just as Germany got to Poland, so that I could work with Daddy on one of his projects for the government,” Bruce said, and didn’t offer anything more, but it still made Joanne pause slightly. 

Sure, she knew about the war, could tell with just a look that both Steve and Bucky were soldiers, knew Tony’s people worked with the government, but somehow, knowing that the two men in bed with her had run away from their home made it real. 

Neither Bruce or Thor said anything else, but she made an effort to try and snuggle between each of them equally. 

They laid down fully after a few minutes, Thor’s chest to Joanne’s back, and Bruce facing her. 

The men held hands on her hip, and her own hand was on Bruce’s waist.   
Joanne smiled into Bruce’s neck, and Thor made eye contact with him above her head. 

Bruce tilted his head down, and pressed his lips to hers gently. 

“Take a nap Annie, you’ve had a busy day.” He said, and Thor hummed from behind her in agreement. 

And, sure, she’d had busier days, but a not so small part of her agreed with Bruce, and her eyes fell shut easily. 

~~~~

“C’mon Annie, don’t go poutin’ like that.” Clint said, his voice soothing and eyes laughing. 

Joanne looked at the tea Clint was offering her disdainfully. 

She’d been woken up from her spot between Bruce and Thor only minutes before, and the two men were still on either side of her, reclined against the headboard. Clint was sitting with his legs crossed in front of him near the foot of the bed. 

Clint waggled his eyebrows and dipped his head back down towards the tea, and Joanne reached out to take it if only so he wouldn’t do it again. 

It slid down her throat near unpleasantly. She grimaced at Clint, who only shrugged his shoulders. 

A large, warm hand rubbed her back as she choked down the tea, though she had a feeling both Bruce and Thor were smiling. 

“I cannot believe my younger sister does not like tea.” She heard Bruce say, and she looked at him, slightly annoyed since they’d already thoroughly argued over it. 

Bruce rolled his eyes at her playfully, and she drank the still near steaming cup of tea as fast as she could. 

Bruce set the cup on the nightstand once she was finished, and made a gesture at Clint to climb into the bed. 

Clint nodded and got under the covers, climbing over Bruce easily and sliding between him and Joanne. 

Clint’s hand slid over Joanne’s hip, and his eyes widened marginally behind his glasses. 

“Annie, why’re you naked?” 

“Y'all always have me naked.” The three men laughed loudly, and Joanne’s lips protruded slightly in a pout. 

It was true, as much as she hated to admit it. Ever since that night she kissed Tony, and he’d carried her to the room without her towel, everyone thought it was okay to keep her either highly under clothed, or completely naked. 

She’d barely gotten used to it, and couldn’t walk around unclothed without blushing thoroughly and feeling both humiliated and embarrassed. 

The others seemed to thrive off of it, and only laughed when she pointed out that Natasha never had to walk around naked. 

Thor murmured something in Polish that she couldn’t make out, and Bruce answered in an equally low voice. 

She made eye contact with Clint curiously, but he looked just as confused as she felt. 

Clint leant forward to kiss her gently on the lips, and she smiled into it before tilting her head so she could kiss his neck. 

She tried to do what Tony had done to her earlier. She bit and sucked his neck in a way she hoped would leave a mark. 

Clint made a strangled sound in his throat, and his fingers tangled in her hair. 

“Shit, Annie what’re you trying to do?” Bruce asked, and though he laughed, his eyes were hooded, and she felt his hand slide between her and Clint to palm the man’s groin. 

Joanne panted into Clint’s neck, already out of breath. 

Thor pinched her thigh hard enough that a half wild noise left her. 

“Wanna give ‘im a mark like he gave me.” She said, her voice only slightly better after drinking the tea. 

Thor made a sound between a groan and a growl from behind her, and Clint outright groaned while Bruce just laughed. 

He seemed to melt from his spot in front of her, and Joanne had a feeling she wouldn’t see Clint like this often.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone teach me to tag please, also if there are any questions I wrote this when I got bored in quarantine and only have five or so chapters done that I'll post right after this so don't hesitate to ask. I have absolutely no clue when I'll update after those are posted, and didn't wanna pull the "I'll update next weekend" and disappear for three years shit we all did on wattpad in 6th grade.


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